


sippin' on straight chlorine

by zora (nico_neo)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, Alternate Universe - Swimming, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Fluff, Hate Sex, Hate to Love, I hate tagging i never know what to tag, M/M, Rivalry, Self-Indulgent, Smut, kuroo week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:10:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26010127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nico_neo/pseuds/zora
Summary: Tetsurou Kuroo hasn’t always liked swimming. Until he did.And now, here he was, nine years later. Participating in the trials for Japan’s Olympic team.Or, in which Sakusa is a well established talent in the swimming world and Kuroo is clawing his way up.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Miya Atsumu, Kuroo Tetsurou/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 9
Kudos: 91
Collections: Kuroo Week 2020





	sippin' on straight chlorine

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work for Kuroo Week! For day 4, I used a free prompt for today: other sports AU
> 
> This work was in my wip and I thought i won't finish it and then Kuroo Week happened and my brain went brrrr. Also i'm a (former) swimmer myself so it was pretty fun to write!
> 
> It was supposed to be inspired by the Phelps/Lochte rivalry but I defo ended up going somewhere else lol
> 
> Oh, the title, i wheezed when i found it. yes it's totally from the twenty one pilots songs but also:  
> chlorine -> swimming pool  
> sippin' sounds like simping  
> yeah... i don't need much to laugh lmao 
> 
> No playlist for this cuz i didn't necessarily found fittings songs but here are a little list of songs i listened when writing:  
> \- chlorine - twenty one pilots  
> \- hymn for the weekend - coldplay  
> \- 24k magic - bruno mars  
> \- in my bloodline - ryan gillmor  
> \- stereo hearts - adam levine, gym class heroes
> 
> Disclaimer: as stated in the tags, this contains hate sex! So, mind the tags!  
> if some mistakes remained, sorry!
> 
> Enjoy! <3

Tetsurou Kuroo hasn’t always liked swimming. Truth be told, he didn’t see the point of the whole sport, at first. What was the use of just going into the water, and swimming back and forth on a given distance. What was the thrill in that? And then, in his first year of high school, he understood. One of his best friends, Koutarou Bokuto - who was a swimmer himself - dragged him to one of their school club’s competitions. Bokuto wasn’t competing that day because of an injury, but he had still insisted to go and cheer on his team. He just dragged Kuroo with him. A groaning, mumbling how boring it’ll be, Kuroo. Oh, how wrong he was.

He could never forget that day.

That’s when his swimming career began.

And now, here he was, nine years later. Participating in the trials for Japan’s Olympic team. Only the twenty six best timers will be selected. Twenty six tickets only for the Olympics. Kuroo didn’t manage to get his four - five - years ago, still too young in his technique and seconds too slow to give his best at the biggest worldwide competition of them all. But this year…

This year, it’s the one.

  
  


When Kiyoomi Sakusa came back from training, hair still damp from the shower he had taken back at the club and skin still faintly smelling like chlorine, it was to his cousin Motoya Komori watching the Olympic swimming trials results.

“You stayed extra again,” Komori only said, his eyes not leaving the TV screen.

“Olympics are soon,” Kiyoomi only answered. Coming further into the living room, he sighed. “Who’s selected?”

“Well, for the ones you already know, Bokuto and the Miya twins, just like five years ago,” his cousin listed. “Though, there is a new top candidate this year. He missed his chance at the last trials five years ago but this year he literally whacked them all. Oh look, it’s him.”

The picture of a black-haired guy appeared on the screen. The emcee presented him as Tetsurou Kuroo. Sakusa remembered him, the guy had set a record at his last competition. He saw it on social media.

Kiyoomi scowlded. “He might be the bigger fish in the pond. But next month he’s just going to find himself in the middle of the ocean. A tiny fish swimming with the sharks.”

And with that, he left the room.

  
  


“Are you nervous?” Koutarou laughed, next to him. “The swimming prodigy, nervous for his first Olympics?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Kuroo groaned, taking in the sight of the Olympic Village around him. Man, the buildings were huge. He could see an outdoor pool, as well as a football and tennis field, from where he was. He felt excited. He made it. But he was also anxious and nervous.

“I wasn’t,” Bokuto answered him. Of course he hadn’t, Kuroo thought, Koutarou was excited for everything. The backstroke specialist shrugged. “Really, whenever I was feeling anxious I was just telling myself that I just needed to have fun first. The medals are just an extra. And look,” he laughed again. “I'm a gold medalist.” 

“Dude… You’re literally the best in your category.” Tetsurou shook his head.

“Hmm,” he nodded. “I am. And I’m having fun.” Bokuto looked back at him. “Just don’t stress too much, because that’s how injuries happen. Have fun, man.”

Having fun. Does Kuroo have fun when he swims? Yes. He didn’t know if fun was really the word he’ll put on what he’s feeling whenever he’s in the pool. But the sensation of the water sliding on his skin, the sharp and fast intake of breath he takes whenever he comes back to the surface, the familiar ache in his body when he’s giving his all. The feeling of freedom. The thrill and the excitement to gain speed and discover the numbers on the timer once he’s touched the wall for the last lap. 

So, yes Kuroo has fun when he’s swimming. He _loves_ it.

But, he also has a goal. That goal being the medal.

Medias were comparing him to Japan’s actual “prodigy” and ace, Kiyoomi Sakusa. Who had won six gold medals out of the eight events he took part in at his first Olympic, five years ago, in 2016. At only nineteen. And established a new world record for 200m butterfly event. Tetsurou had seen a headline once, saying: “Will swimming rising star Tetsurou Kuroo put a term to Kiyoomi Sakusa’s ascension.” 

And, really, one of Kuroo’s goals since he started swimming was to swipe the gold at the Olympics. Who was he to refuse a little challenge?

“The twins are putting their stuff in their room and then are going to the pool,” Bokuto talked, getting him out of his thoughts. The spiky haired was looking at his phone. “Atsumu says they’re tasting the waters - oh man that pun -. Do you want to come?” 

The twins were probably the most dangerous siblings in the Individual Medley (combining the four swimming strokes). Whether it was for the 200 meters or the 400 meters. Have had that reputation since their highschool days. Tetsurou had the chance to meet them several times. Well, mostly Atsumu, since him and Koutarou were practically living together now, and they’ve been dating for four years, so Kuroo _definitely_ knew Atsumu. He had seen Osamu a few times. He liked them, they were fun guys. 

“Sure. Also, tell him that pun was absolutely horrible.”

They met the twins a few minutes later. Atsumu was already in the water and Osamu was still stretching. They weren’t the only ones who had decided to train, apparently. Kuroo could see athletes from several countries taking place in the different pools and swimming. Atsumu finished his butterfly lap with a splash of his hand against the wall. He smiled at them and Kuroo saw him literally bouncing in the water, thanks to his grip on the tiles.

“Bokkun, let’s race!”

Osamu rolled his eyes.  
  


The three others had left long before Kuroo decided he had done enough. The evening had settled, and the pool was mostly empty. After finishing his lap, he got out of the water and grabbed the towel he had placed on a nearby bench earlier. He started to dry his damp hair and made his way back to the locker room. He bumped into someone.

“Oh shit, sorry.” he apologized, getting the towel off his head - the reason why he didn’t see where he was going in the first place.

And, oh, what a surprise when Kuroo found out he had bumped into Sakusa.

“Look at that, the newbie.” 

Kuroo felt his lips twitch, but he could also play this game.

“Look at that, the ace.” he echoed.

Sakusa looked at him up and down. “So, you’re the new prodigy they chose? Your timer isn’t that outstanding.”

“I think I’m doing rather great, actually,” Tetsurou said. “Who knows, maybe I could even beat you.”

“You’re rather confident for someone who is here for his first Olympics. It’s not a shallow pool competition, I hope you’re aware of that. Everyone you’re competing with already knows what Olympics are like. You don’t.”

“You’re right,” Kuroo approved. Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t make the cut five years ago. So, I think you should worry about yourself rather than worry for me. I’m actually sweeping more of your records every day.”

Sakusa’s lip twitched. He huffed. 

“Maybe you’re just losing your touch,” Kuroo smirked. 

“My medals speak for themselves, newbie. Don’t ever talk down to me. I won’t take the critics coming from a latecomer.” 

And with that, the gold medalist was gone. 

Tetsurou turned away and finally breathed. That guy certainly was scary. 

  
  


First day of competition. 

Kuroo was taking part in the 200 meter individual freestyle. First were the series. Then, if he was qualified, the semi-final and then, the final. And he very much hopes to end on the podium. But as he entered the pool, he felt his heart fall to his feet.

He participated in dozens of competitions. But nothing, _nothing_ could ever prepare you for the atmosphere of the _Olympics_. It was bigger, way bigger. Usually, he never paid attention to the cameras, he didn’t really see them. Here, they were staring at him, waiting for his first faux pas to record and expose him to the world’s eyes. His legs were starting to shake, and he had to take a deep breath to calm down. He almost jumped out of his skin when the referee blew the first short whistle, signaling to them to take positions. 

Kuroo put on his goggles and got onto the platform at the long whistle. When the referee yelled “Ready!”, he put himself in position, breathing out.

He dived at the starting buzz. 

  
  


Tetsurou pulled his swimming cap off harsly, the rubber ends smacked, and so did the elastic band of his goggles when he took them off. His hands balled into fist, and he almost cracked the plastic of his goggles under his firm hand.

His time was terrible. And he felt like he was being back to eight years ago, just a useless swimmer, still not good enough. Nowhere near good to even think about competing. 

He didn’t know if he was going to be qualified for the semi finals. It should be okay. He ended up at the fourth place of his series. There were two semi finals before the final. Kuroo just had to pray he’ll be in at least one of them.

The competitors for the next series were coming out from the locker rooms, and Kiyoomi was one of them, just his luck. The taller man looked down at him, and Tetsurou felt tiny under his gaze. Like he was some dog shit on the edge of Sakusa’s shoe. The gold medalist didn’t look at him as he passed next to him. But his words went right into Kuroo’s core.

“They chose you because of your timer at the trials. But it’s not the trials anymore. If you can’t give us medals, then you have nothing to do here.”

He got a clap on the back from Bokuto and the twins when he got back at the Olympic Village. Their series had been earlier in the day. The three of them had finished first place. Bokuto for 100m backstroke and the twins in 200m Individual Medley for Atsumu and 400m for Osamu. Koutarou and Atsumu had their qualification series for 200m backstroke and 100m breastroke the next day, just like Kuroo. Although his was for the 200m butterfly stroke. He knew for a fact - if he passed the qualification series, that is - that he’ll compete against Sakusa two times. For 200m freestyle, and 200m butterfly. They also had a relay qualification series later in the evening. The 400m medley relay. For this one, Koutarou would do backstroke, Atsumu breaststroke, Kiyoomi butterfly, and Osamu had asked Tetsurou to take his place for the freestyle. The black haired twin was just coming back from a shoulder impingement syndrome injury, and wanted to focus mostly on his 400m Individual Medley. Hence why he only lined himself up on only two events. His qualification series for the 50m freestyle wasn't before Friday.

Kuroo really needed to get out of it. He couldn’t allow himself another failure. 

Tetsurou narrowly escaped being eliminated from the semi finals for the 200m freestyle. Two seconds less, and he would have had to say goodbye for a possible medal in that category. Though, luck and fate seemed to be on his side. For now. Tomorrow, he’ll need to make up for his horrendous timer. But, for now, he needed to focus on their relay qualification. Because he could feel Sakusa’s gaze on him, looking right through his soul, probably trying to make him lose his mind. To break him. Convincing him he wasn’t good enough.

Kuroo wouldn’t break. So, he looked back at the other man. Challenging.

Kiyoomi only narrowed his eyes, and went into position, as the butterfly stroke was the first of the relay. And Tetsurou took this moment to observe the gold medalist. His face, the two moles on the right side of his forehead, his pointy nose and pinched lips, concentrated. His neck, up to his back. He had a back tattoo, wings. Going from one shoulder to the other. His back muscles were defined, and Kuroo could see them moving at any movement Kiyoomi made. His waist was narrow, slim but muscular. Most of his thighs were covered by his swimming trunks, but Tetsurou could perfectly imagine every line of the muscles and tendons underneath.

It’s the buzz signaling the race start that made him avert his gaze, but not without a perfect view of the other’s butt.

Kiyoomi Sakusa was, indeed, a fine and handsome looking man.

That day, Tetsurou Kuroo qualified for the 100m and 200m freestyle semi finals, and the 200m butterfly stroke semi finals, for his individual events. As well as the 400m medley relay. 

Also that day, Kiyoomi Sakusa qualified for the 200m freestyle semi finals, and the 100m and 200m butterfly stroke semi finals, for his individual events. And the 400m medley relay.

No words were exchanged between the two of them when they got confirmation they were qualified, at the end of the relay. Simply glances towards the other, and a thick tangible tension.

  
  


The next day, Tetsurou ended first place for his two freestyle semi finals and second place for his butterfly semi final. A mere tenth of a second after one of the American swimmers. Kiyoomi got first place in all his semi finals. Their team ended second during their relay semi final, Atsumu had gotten overtaken by the French team, and Kuroo hadn’t been able to close the gap quick enough. They were still qualified for the final, though. Atsumu had apologized over a hundred times. And if Bokuto assured him it was okay, and that Sakusa just nodded at him, Kuroo only got the glare and smirk treatment. Along with a:

“I thought you were sweeping my records?” he simply asked.

Tetsurou wanted to strangle him. But he just teased back instead. 

“Wait for tomorrow.”

  
  


No sooner had Tetsurou snatched his first ever Olympic gold medal by winning the 100m freestyle final - and establishing a new personal record at that - that he needed to get ready again. This time, for the 200m freestyle. 

To race against Kiyoomi. For the gold. 

Them being in the two lanes next to each other seemed to be planified. Either the Olympics officials had got wind of their “rivalry”, either it was pure destiny. 

Kiyoomi didn’t really care. He’s going to win and keep his Olympic champion title in that event. Taking advantage of the interval between the announcement of the swimmers participating and the moment they had to take place on the platform, Sakusa took a look at Kuroo.

The other was a little bit smaller than him, only by a few centimeters. His chest was toned, abs visible thanks to years of swimming and workout. Contrary to Kiyoomi, Tetsurou was wearing a short swimming trunk, ending just in the crook of his groin. Meaning he had a plain view of the bottom of his abdomen, a perfect V shape, and he could see the veins here, under shaved skin. His thighs were muscular, defined. Not as huge as Bokuto’s, but not far away. Seeing them in movement, propulsing Kuroo’s body faster and faster in the water, as he’s swimming to the end of the lap, must be a divine view. He had a dragon tattoo on his knee, the top of his head on his thigh and the bottom on his calf.

When the first whistle blew, Kiyoomi looked away.

At the long whistle, they took place on the platform, getting ready. The seconds before the starting buzz seemed like minutes, hours. Keeping the eight swimmers in tenterhooks. 

When the buzz finally happened, Kuroo took a last breath, and dived. 

The cheers were background noises, the only thing he could hear now were the breaths he took every few strokes - at three, then at five, then at seven - and the sound of his beating heart. His feet touched the wall as he spinned back for the last lap. He didn’t know in what position he was. He knows he’s not late, or at least he hopes so. He didn’t know where Sakusa was, nor did he really care right now. Though he was curious. His hand touched the wall. It was done. 

He got his head out of the water, the cheers fully coming back to his ears, loud, deafening. When he did, he saw a hand touching the wall with a splash on his right, and then, a head coming out of the water. It was Sakusa’s swimming cap.

Wait… If Sakusa only touched the wall now…

Kuroo got rid of his cap and goggles, and looked at the results screen board. 

He was first.

Two tenth of a second over Kiyoomi. 

That meant… that he won the gold. And that he had beaten Sakusa’s world record. 

He turned around again, looking at the other man. Kiyoomi had put his goggles up on his forehead, his arms were resting on the lane rope. Kuroo didn’t know if he was defeated or if he was just searching for the best way to strangle him once they’ll be out of the water.

They got their medals a few minutes later, and Kuroo hesitated between coming to Sakusa, or waiting for the other man to come to him. Either way, they’ll definitely have some talk… if they could call that a talk. Because, really, they didn’t talk… they just made barbed comments to each other. See who will break first. Yeah that was it.

Tetsurou got his answer for his previous question, a few hours later, in the locker room of the Olympic Village’s indoor pool. He was about to go for a swim when Kiyoomi entered the room. They looked at each other, in a tensed silence. If anyone were to come, Kuroo’s pretty sure they’ll leave immediately. Because it just looked like they were going to rip each other’s throat. 

“It was luck.” 

It’s Kiyoomi who broke the silence. With a single sentence that made Kuroo’s blood boil. Luck? 

“Are you saying that me beating you is just pure chance?” 

“Yes. You got lucky.”

Kuroo didn’t have time to think about it, his body had moved on its own. He was now in front of Sakusa, who was looking down at him, thanks to their four centimeters height difference. But Kuroo wasn’t backing down. They were so close they could feel each other’s breath. Well, he didn’t know if he could really feel Sakus’s, considering his mask, but he definitely could feel Kuroo’s. 

“I really want to strangle you, right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

Tetsurou ripped the mask off, his hands immediately gripping to the collar of Kiyoomi’s jacket, pushing the other man against the locker. The metal made a deafening sound under their weight, and then, it was silent. 

“I’ve beaten you. I’ve beaten you and your world record. Get that into your head.”

“I still think it’s pure luck. I won’t believe a guy who’s only been swimming since high school could do that, if not just because of chance.”

Then, Kuroo did something that surprised them both. He kissed Sakusa. It was not a sweet or nice kiss. No, it was rough, both of them battling for dominance. It was teeth and tongue not sweetness and softness. One of Tetsurou’s hand gripped Kiyoomi’s curly locks, pulling. It earned him a groan coming from the other man, who grasped at Kuroo’s hair in turn, yanking his head backwards as his mouth attached to his neck, biting. 

The asshole, Kuroo thought. 

His own hands left Kiyoomi’s jacket and hair to fiddle with the button of his jeans, yanking it open and not waiting for Sakusa’s green light to palm at his hardening cock. Kiyoomi huffed against his neck, biting harshly before he pulled on Tetsurou’s hair again. 

“You’re a fucking asshole,” the newly gold medalist said, directly into Kiyoomi’s ear. 

“And you’re a nobody.” Sakusa retorted, slipping his own hands in Kuroo’s trunk, gripping, hard.

Kuroo muffled his groan by biting on the swimmer’s neck. He took Sakusa’s length out of his boxers, yanking the briefs and jeans lower on his hips. 

“The nobody is making you hard, though,”

“So is the asshole.”

Tetsurou bit on the skin of Kiyoomi’s neck, earning another groan from the other. One of Kiyoomi’s hand was still pulling on his hair, and Kuroo’s sure he must have tear some strands off. The hand left his hair to scratch at his chest with his nails, lightly drawing blood. His thumb and index finger pinched at one Kuroo’s nipples, and twisted. Tetsurou muffled his shout by gritting his teeth. As revenge, the hand that was busy leaving a bruise from his grip on the curly haired’s hip made its way to Kiyoomi’s back, the tip of Tetsurou’s finger pushing at the other’s entrance. When Sakusa’s breath hitched, Kuroo pushed in. A first finger, then a second. Kiyoomi’s hand moved in his hair again, and yanked. Kuroo smirked at him, Kiyoomi glared, the thumb of his other hand brushing over the sensitive tip of Kuroo’s cock. Tetsurou’s hips jerked forward, pushing further into the other’s hand. Sakusa grinned and repeated his action, Kuroo had to muffle another cry. He added a third finger, and looked at Kiyoomi again. 

They were kissing again, still not soft or sweet. Competitive, rough. It was bitten lips, hair pulling and tongues battling for dominance. Kuroo pulled his fingers out, and put both of his hands at the back of Kiyoomi’s thighs, hauling him up in his arms. Sakusa’s arms didn’t wrap around his neck, no. Instead, he gripped at Kuroo’s hair, holding onto it, scratching his skull with his nails. Kuroo groaned. Both under the effort and because of his hair. With one last shared challenging look, Kuroo aligned his cock to Sakusa’s entrance and pushed, entering in one swift motion. Kiyoomi moaned, the sound more like a grunt, and Kuroo shut him off by kissing him, and started thrusting. Not bothering to check if he could start doing so.

They bothed grunted in each other’s mouth, Tetsurou’s fingers scratching and pinching the skin of Kiyoomi’s muscular thighs while one of Sakusa’s hands came down to Kuroo’s niple, twisting. His back was scraping against the metal door of the locker, making noise with every thrust, and Kiyoomi was sure he’s surely going to have marks tomorrow. His dick was trapped between his own abs and Kuroo’s and the friction was almost painful, yet it wasn’t totally unpleasant.

At one particular thrust, a moan escaped Kiyoomi’s lips. He needed more.

But Tetsurou had noticed, and changed his angle with a smirk.

“Bastard.” Sakusa breathed out.

Kuroo’s only answer was to thrust impossibly harder, always missing the coveted spot. The sound of skin slapping accompanied the fanfare of the locker and grunts. Tetsurou’s hips jerked messily and Kiyoomi kissed him again and roughly bit his bottom lip as he could feel his own climax being reached. Kuroo stilled for a few seconds, and Sakusa could _feel_ the muscles of his thighs against him. As the newly gold medalist came down from his high, they looked at each other again. Kuroo’s eyes were lidded, because that’s what sex does to you. 

But, for them, they were no cuddling, no hand holding. No last, sweet, kiss before pulling out. No. There was no post orgasm bliss. Kuroo just pulled out without a word, and put him down. And they got their clothes back on without a word. They just fucked, out of frustration, competitiveness, in the indoor pool locker room, that was it. 

And Kiyoomi needed a _shower._

“I didn’t know you were gay,” Kuroo said, putting his swim trunk - that had fallen to the floor - back on, his back turned to Sakusa.

“You never asked me.” Kiyoomi yelled back, as the door was falling shut behind him.

  
  


It happened Tuesday. Tetsurou winning the gold at the 200m freestyle, beating Kiyoomi and his world record. Now, it was Thursday. Kuroo didn’t have any event today besides the relay with the rest of the team. Atsumu had the final for the 200m breaststroke and Bokuto the semi final for the 200m backstroke. Osamu had won silver for the 400m individual medley, beaten only by a little tenth of a second by a swimmer from the Chinese team, on Monday. Now, he was resting and waiting for his qualification series for the 50m freestyle the next day. And Kiyoomi had the final for the 100m butterfly just before the relay. So far, Kuroo had won two gold medals, Bokuto one gold - for 100m backstroke -, Atsumu also got the gold for the 200m individual medley and Osamu was aiming for the gold on Friday. And Kiyoomi will certainly win gold today. Which means they already got four gold medals - five if they counted Kiyoomi’s victory before it even happens - and one silver medal. For swimming only. Kuroo felt really proud. Not of him, but of their little team. And the games weren’t over yet.

When he met the others in the afternoon, for the relay, at the Olympic pool where the event was held, it was to a grinning Bokuto, spinning an also grinning Atsumu in his arms. Osamu was with them as well, wrapped in his zipped jacket and sweatpants, looking tired. He was probably coming back from a physio session.

“Gold?” Kuroo asked Osamu, the two others were too engrossed in their world to notice him.

The second half of the Miya twins confirmed with a nod of his head.

“First year for him,” Osamu said. “He was leading five years ago but the Spanish swimmer snatched it at the last second,” he explained, looking at his brother, who was now engulfed in one of Bokuto’s bear hugs. He smiled. “He moped for days.”

“I did not!” Atsumu denied, his voice muffled in Koutarou’s neck. They were now properly hugging. Bokuto’s arms were wrapped around his shoulders and neck and Miya’s were around the backstroke swimmer’s waist. 

Osamu rolled his eyes and muttered a “You did.” and focused his attention on Tetsurou again. 

“Congrats on the two gold medals, by the way.”

“Yes, Tetsu! Congrats! You’re amazing, I knew you'd beat everyone.” Koutarou added, letting Atsumu go to look at him properly, beaming.

Kuroo scratched the back of his neck, faintly blushing and muttering his thanks.

“It’s not everyday someone beats Omi,” Atsumu grinned. He was about to add something when cheers and screams were heard from the bleachers. They all turned into that direction. Kiyoomi was making his way to them. Just like them - minus Osamu - he was in his swimming trunks. His jacket was zipped up all the way to his neck and his swimming cap and goggles hung off from one of his pockets, where his hands were buried. 

“Speaking of the devil,” 

“Omi-omi!” Atsumu welcomed him. His only response was a humming sound from the curly haired. 

It might not look like it to the others, or the spectators. But Tetsurou saw it. The slight limp in Sakusa’s walk. The events of the two nights before were still fresh in Kuroo’s memory. He couldn’t explain it, it had happened… And somehow, he knew it’ll happen again.

When they had to get ready and in line, he tried to brush the feeling - pride? - overtaking his body when Kiyoomi unzipped his jacket and red biting marks became visible. 

“Did you get mauled?!” Atsumu _screamed._

“I did not. Shut up.” Sakusa answered.

When their eyes met, Kuroo only grinned and shrugged. Sakusa huffed and turned his back to him, letting Kuroo admire the details of his wings tattoo. 

“Did something happen?” Bokuto asked, so close to Kuroo’s ear that he had to take a step to the side under the surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Koutarou said, eyes going back and forth between his best friend and Kiyoomi. “Omi looks like he’s been attacked by some vampire - you too, by the way - and you’re acting weird. Don’t think I can’t see the tension. And not your,” he made a gesture with his hand. “‘i’m gonna beat you’ type of tension.”

“I saw that huge hickey on Atsumu’s thigh, did I ask you about it?” Tetsurou teased.

“That’s beside the point,” Bokuto flushed. “Hey, you didn’t deny it! Dude, are you a ghoul or what?”

“I never said it was me.”

Bokuto gave him a look that clearly said _do you think I’m that stupid?_ Kuroo sighed.

“Maybe. But it’s certainly not what you think.”

“Whatever, you’re contributing to the Olympic Village reputation, dude.” Bokuto teased, clapping him on the back. Kuroo was about to speak again but the referee whistled and the backstroke swimmer had to take place in the water, since he was the one starting the relay. Atsumu kissed his cheek and the second after, Bokuto was in position in the water.

The signal for the start of the race was given and Koutarou dived backward in one elegant and swift motion. He came back leading. Atsumu dived and Kiyoomi positioned himself on the platform. Atsumu was in a tie with the Korean swimmer. Sakusa looked at Kuroo, who was standing next to him. Atsumu was close. Kuroo looked back at the other.

“Don’t let yourself get distanced,” Kiyoomi said.

“Same goes for you.” Tetsurou answered.

Kiyoomi dived, and Kuroo took place on the platform. From there, even from his crouched position, he could see everything. They were still tied with the Korean team. And Kiyoomi’s turn would be decisive. He turned, disappearing into the water. He reappeared a few seconds later. He had taken the lead. Tetsurou smiled. The Korean swimmer was still close, though. Not far behind was also the Italian team. When Sakusa’s hand touched the tiles, Kuroo dived. Starting then, he only focused on his breathing, and the sensation of his muscles, heating under the effort. His feet touched the wall as he rotated backward. He vaguely saw another swimmer being right on his heels, so, giving his all, he pushed his arms and legs to move _faster_ , _harder_ . His hand touched the tiles and he _breathed._

Koutarou and Atsumu’s smiling, wet, faces was the first thing he saw. Even Kiyoomi was smiling. And he knew.

They _won._

Somehow, Tetsurou and Kiyoomi didn’t talk until later in the evening. Well, not really talk. More like, interact. Kuroo was going to the indoor pool, like every evening. Usually he went with Bokuto and the twins, but Koutarou had the final for the 200m backstroke - for which he got qualified before the relay - in the morning the next day, so he passed for this time. Osamu had actually gone to sleep rather early, immediately after dinner, probably too exhausted from physio and the excitement of the relay. Atsumu, for _obvious_ reasons, stayed with Bokuto. So, Kuroo was alone. Not that he minded.

Not completely, apparently, since Kiyoomi seemed to have the same idea as him. The 200m butterfly final was tomorrow evening after all. They didn’t speak the whole time they swam. Only acknowledging each other with a look before getting into the water. No words were spoken when they entered the locker room either.

But there was tension.

So present that Kuroo had to stop what he was doing - drying his hair with his towel - to look at Sakusa, behind him. The other was already looking at him. Nobody talked. They just looked, _stared_ at each other. Droplets of water were running down Kiyoomi’s abs, and Tetsurou couldn’t help but look, following the movement. He felt Sakusa’s eyes doing the same on him.

Kuroo looked back up. “You almost got distanced, earlier.”

“You too,” Kiyoomi said, taking a step closer to him. “The Korean was right behind you. You’d have missed your turn and it was over.”

“But I didn’t,” Tetsurou retorted. Sakusa was in front of him now.

“No, you didn’t.”

The next second, Kiyoomi’s lips were on his - rough, biting - and his back was pressed against the lockers. Their hips met and Kuroo couldn’t help the moan escaping him at the sensation of their arousal touching, combined with the wetness of their trunks fabric. Kiyoomi’s lips trailed down his neck and _bit._ Tetsurou’s fingers gripped on the other man’s hip, hard enough to leave a bruise. His fingers slipped under the wet waistband of Sakusa’s trunks, but before Kuroo could touch his arousal, Kiyoomi pressed their bodies closer, trapping his hand between their bodies. Both their hardening were now compressing against each other, and it would have been uncomfortable if Kiyoomi hadn’t started grinding on Tetsurou, making him groan and moan again. He felt Kiyoomi’s grin against his neck.

The bastard.

Kuroo moved his hand to the curly strands and gripped, pulled on it. Kiyoomi groaned and lifted his head from his neck. He glared at him.

“If you’re going to act all cocky, then do something about it.”

Kiyoomi’s eyebrow twitched, and the next second, Tetsurou’s trunks were falling to his ankles while Sakusa’s hand snaked to his entrance, pushing a first finger inside. Much like Kuroo did to him two days ago. Payback, he guessed.

“For your interest,” Kiyoomi said, his lips grazing Kuroo’s as he pushed a second finger inside. “I’m not acting cocky.”

Kuroo simply huffed, turning into a moan when Sakusa turned him around, his chest slamming into the lockers, and replaced his fingers by his erected cock, in one swift motion. Tetsurou had to grip the sides of the lockers, having nowhere or nothing to hold on to. He arched his back, slightly changing the angle to which Kiyoomi was thrusting into him. Kuroo didn’t know which sounded more obscene between the position they were in and the sound of Kiyoomi’s muscly thighs slapping against his ass. 

One particular thrust made him grip tighter on the lockers.

“Oh my god, right there.” he whispered.

Kiyoomi stopped. Kuroo had to bite back the whine wanting to escape his lips. Sakusa wrapped his arms around Tetsurou’s waist, and pressed flush against him. It made him thrust deeper into Kuroo, but totally missing the spot. Kiyoomi nibbled at his ear.

“No,” he murmured. And he pushed slowly again, his body flushed to Kuroo’s.

Tetsurou really wanted to strangle him. But it was quickly forgotten when Kiyoomi started to thrust again, fast and rough. Even though the release and the disappearance of Kiyoomi’s warmth against his back left a slight bitter feeling inside Kuroo.

It didn’t fade away when Kiyoomi left the room.

  
  


Osamu was the first one to compete on the next day. The 50m freestyle was the first Olympic event of the day. And Osamu snatched the gold with ease, despite the tiredness and his freshly healed injury. He wasn’t the only one winning gold that morning, because Koutarou kept his Olympic champion title, and made it a double. Tetsurou might have to ask Osamu for a sleeping arrangement tonight…

He didn’t see Kiyoomi all day. Which wasn’t really surprising since they didn’t see each other a lot to begin with, but Kuroo was somehow itching to see the other again. Because of the excitation of their upcoming event or something else, he didn’t know. He had to stay focused though, Kiyoomi was the current Olympic champion of the 200m butterfly stroke. If Kuroo beats him, he wins whatever rivalry, competition there was between them. If Kiyoomi keeps his title, he’s the one who wins.

They don’t look at each other when they take place on their platforms. They don’t look at each other when they get into position. Both their gaze are fixed in front of them, both their minds shut to focus on _swimming_. Nothing else mattered. Kuroo concentrated on the sensations in his muscles. It didn’t ache, though he was starting to feel the stir at the second lap. He didn’t try to look in the corner of his eyes and stayed focused on the water before him. Arms, then legs. Repeat. Until he touched the wall. He looked on his right. 

Kiyoomi was there. Kiyoomi had won. His cap and goggles were already off before Kuroo could do the same.

They looked at each other for the first time that day. There was no grin, no proud look or shitty remark coming from Sakusa. Just a determined, acknowledging look, directing to Kuroo. 

Tetsurou offered a hand over the lane rope, chest heaving after his effort. 

Kiyoomi took it. And Kuroo had trouble not keeping Kiyoomi’s fingers in his.

  
  


Unlike the two previous times, it’s not Sakusa who found Kuroo this time. But Tetsurou. He went to his room and knocked. He entered. Kiyoomi was already making his suitcase, as they were leaving in two days. They looked at each other without a word. Kuroo closed the door behind him.

“Why are you here?” Kiyoomi asked. It wasn’t a reproach, simply mere curiosity.

“I don’t know,” and it was true. Tetsurou didn’t know why he was there. He just came here. Like he needed to come here. To see Kiyoomi. Outside of a swimming pool or a locker room. 

“You did great.”

Tetsurou, who’s gaze had unfocused after Kiyoomi’s previous question, looked back at him. He waited for the following remark. Sharp, degrading. But none came. It was genuine. 

“Thank you,” he nodded. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

Kiyoomi huffed, his lips quivering upward as he placed a last t-shirt in his suitcase before raising up from his kneeling position. And, just like the two last times, he walked up to Kuroo. And Tetsurou didn’t push away when Sakusa kissed him. Or when he pushed him on the bed.

One thing Tetsurou noticed, as Kiyoomi pushed inside of him, was that it wasn’t like the two other times. Those were angry, competitive, dared he say hateful, maybe. Getting a mutual frustration out. This time, they were facing each other. The kisses were more tender, their tongue didn’t battle for dominance anymore but danced. The bites were less painful, less enraged, but more caring. The hair pulling became running a hand through black straight and curly strands. The thrusts were slower, softer, making their body move in sync rather than slam against one another. The other’s pleasure wasn’t denied, as when Kiyoomi touched Tetsurou’s sweet spot, he didn’t move away, this time. Their hands roamed on each other’s body, discovering it properly. Soft gasps and moans escaped Kiyoomi when Tetsurou pinched his nipples, gently, teasingly. His hips jerked messily, and this time, they came together, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders and chest, and foreheads softly bumping.

They stayed in each other’s arms as they came down from their bliss. For minutes or hours, Kuroo didn’t know. There was a post orgasm kiss. Then another, and another. Kuroo couldn’t get enough. And when Kiyoomi cupped his cheek to kiss him again, everything made sense.

“What’s making you smile?” Kiyoomi asked. 

Tetsurou looked at him in the eyes, brushing his cheekbone with the tip of his fingers, then his moles. “I think I like you,” he said. “Well, maybe it’s too soon to say that but...I don’t know, there’s something about you, besides swimming.”

Sakusa tensed in his arms. And Kuroo wished he could say he hadn’t expected it. 

“It’s okay,” he said, untangling himself from the gold medalist and standing up. He fetched his shirt on the floor. “I just needed to get it out of my chest, you don’t have to say anything.” and before Kiyoomi could move, he left. 

They didn’t speak again until the closing ceremony. And Kuroo kind of hated the unsettling feeling that had taken place in his chest after Friday night. It was stupid. It’s just the fever of the Games. It messed with his brain. He’ll get over it.

He was about to leave the ceremony hall to join Bokuto and the twins - who were already out - when a hand grabbed his arm. When he turned to look at the person who stopped him, he met Kiyoomi. There was no face mask this time, though Kuroo saw it hanging from one of his pockets. There was a meager glint of doubt in Sakusa’s pupils, but otherwise, his face stayed the same as usual. Tetsurou looked at him curiously.

“I’m willing to try,”

It took Kuroo a few seconds to answer. “What?”

Kiyoomi took a step closer, and the grip on his arm loosened until he was holding his wrist instead. “What you said on Friday,” he explained. His eyes met Tetsurou’s. “If you meant what you said, I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to feel obligated to do so.”

“I don’t,” Sakusa denied. He sighed. “I feel that way too. That there’s something about you.”

Kuroo couldn’t help the smile blooming on his face. He took Kiyoomi’s hand. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll snatch your records?” he teased.

“Allow me to remind you that we won the same amount of medals, though.”

Tetsurou shrugged. “Next time, then.”

“I’ll still have more medals on my record,” Kiyoomi grinned. And Kuroo laughed.

“I’ll still beat you.”

Hands not leaving each other’s, they continued their way out of the ceremony hall. Before they could fully exit, Tetsurou stopped, and looked at the man next to him. This time, it’s Kiyoomi who looked at him curiously.

“You know,” Kuroo mused. “I didn’t get here because of luck.” he echoed Sakusa’s first words to him. “But meeting you definitely was.”

And as he took pride in the blush coming on Kiyoomi’s cheek with a smile, Sakusa simply retorted: “You know, your timers… not bad for a newbie.”

  
  
  
  
  


“Welcome to this first day of qualification for this year’s Olympics, taking place in Paris, France. Today, the qualification is for the semi final of the 200m butterfly stroke. The swimmers are taking place, slowly, and appearing now on your screen are the two men who stole the show during the last edition, offering us breathtaking races every time they faced each other during an event. First, in lane number three, you can see Sakusa, Kiyoomi from his first name, the young swimming prodigy who snatched gold six times for his first Olympics, eight years ago. During the last edition of the Games, he set a new personal and world record for the 200m butterfly stroke, for which he is a doubled gold medalist. Will he be for a third time this year?”

“On lane number four is - oh, another Sakusa - wait, does he have a twin? I thought the Miyas were the only twins in the competition - we’ll talk about them later! Oh, wait, I got information about the lane-number-four-Sakusa, it’s not Kiyoomi’s twin or cousin but rising swimming prodigy Tetsurou, formerly, Kuroo! The 200m freestyle current Olympic champion! In the last edition, he had beaten Kiyoomi’s world record and snatched the gold, two tenths of a second over. Rumors went around about them after some people saw the two men hanging out together hand in hand, but the two athletes neither denied nor confirmed anything, either publicly or on social media. Well, it seems like we all have our answers now! They are playfully bantering now. Is that a ring hidden under black strip I see taped on their fingers? In any case, all the best wishes to them! I hope they will take our breath away again this year! And now, the starting buzz! Kiyoomi and Tetsurou are both neck and neck as they resurface, who will seize the best timer this time?” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading ! \o/
> 
> Comments and kudos are my serotonin boost!
> 
> Now with [art](https://twitter.com/bokutowantsyou/status/1315316955117686789?s=20)  
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> 


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